


Two Months

by DrakkHammer



Category: Being Human BBC, The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: M/M, You never know what you will find in an alley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakkHammer/pseuds/DrakkHammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for the Summer Fandom Raffle Exchange # 21 - Two Months</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Months

 

**Prompt 21: Two Months**

 

Two months ago today I met you…in an alley ready to kill.

Your fangs were out, your eyes obsidian. Your hair hung over your face in long damp tangles. You looked at me and snarled.

I should have been afraid.

But I wasn’t.

I could smell the sickness on you – the same as you could smell it on me.

We two were the same, monsters in a world who had no idea we existed. You who took what you needed. Me, equally cruel, my fangs hidden behind honeyed words. You who sucked the blood of out your victim. Me, who drained them in a different way…their will, their pride, sometimes their soul.

Two predators in an alley with the trash. Different and yet alike.

We looked at each other, the shadows hiding our past and future. There was only this moment. This moment when you would take my life and I would let you. This moment when you would revert to being the thing you hate most and kill once more. Big Bad John stalking Auckland instead of Bristol. The venue matters little, it’s the body count that is important.

I stretched my neck and waited. I wanted that surcease of pain, the ending of a life without respect, or honor…a life that had never been worth living. I would not be missed. I could be as easily disposed of as a crushed pet, or failed goddess.

“Why do you want to die?”

I did not expect your question. I had no ready answer.

“Because I’m the fifth wheel in a world that only needs four,” replied. I think I heard that quote someplace. I’m not clever enough to have thought it up looking into the eyes of a vampire.

“That doesn’t make sense.” His accent was Irish, I think. He looked confused. I wasn’t.

“I’m a drunk and a conman and no one gives a shit if I’m here tomorrow. So do the world a favor and take me out of it.”

I didn’t want to bandy words. The alley stank. I wanted this finished. It was a pity about the suit. It was new and expensive. It was a shame to get blood and the muck of the alley on it, but some things can’t be helped.

For a predator he was taking his own sweet time. I grew impatient.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Grow a pair and bite me.” My tone was peevish. I’m a prick. I’m also a god, so it goes with the territory.

His eyes faded to normal, brown I thought at the time, and he shoved me backwards. Even fucking vampires treat me like an old sack. I hit the dumpster and bounced off, nearly falling.

He grabbed me and steadied me. I looked up into eyes that were glistening with tears.

What the ever-loving fuck?

“I’m sorry,” he said raggedly.

“For what, going back on our deal?” I was pissed off and didn’t bother to hide it.

“What deal?”

“I hold still and you kill me, asshole. That fucking deal.”

The look of puzzlement on his face made him almost pretty. He really did have amazing eyes. Since I obviously wasn’t going to die, I was free to actually take a look at him. He was too skinny by half and needed a haircut and a wash. What happened to the urbane vampire with the cape and tux? This one was wearing a ratty leather jacket and skinny jeans. I guess standards had fallen lately.

“So you aren’t going to kill me?” I said, trying to get the conversation back around to my eminent demise.

“No. I made a mistake.” His brogue was faint, but it was there, nonetheless. “I wanted to change, but I don’t know how.”

“Now you sound like me,” I said, straightening my tie. I liked that tie. It was Italian silk and I was not unhappy that it didn’t end up with bloodstains.

“You know what,” I found myself saying. “Why don’t we get pissed? Everything will look different tomorrow.”

He nodded and heaved a sigh. Jesus tapdancing Christ was he gorgeous! Suddenly I wanted that drink, a whole flock of them, as many as we could get. If I couldn’t get dead I could do the next best thing. Either way I wouldn’t have to think for awhile.

“I’m buying,” I said charitably.

I had cause to rue that offer. I was dead all right. Dead broke. Do you have any idea how much an Irish vampire can drink? I certainly didn’t.

Two months ago today I met you. I thought I would find death.

Instead, I found life.

I love you, John Mitchell.

And I always will.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this unusual little drabble. As always comments are appreciated. :)


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